Green
by Miss Hal Gibson
Summary: If only she had worn a little green. Alvittany Drabble.


**AN: Hi! It's been a while since I've posted anything. This story was started a couple of days before St. Patrick's Day, and it is indeed a St. Patrick's Day Story. It's very late, though, because I did not feel the inspiration to finish it until today. It's a lot shorter than I originally intended it to be, but I hope it's enjoyable anyhow. **

**Alvin and The Chipettes belong to Ross Bagdasarian and Janice Karman. I own nothing. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

"_Ugh!_ No, I'm not wearing any of that!" Brittany scowled and crossed her arms. "I hate green!"

"But Brittany, it's just a little green. It's not that bad." Eleanor rolled her eyes at her elder sister. Brittany was being extremely immature about this whole matter. "And you remember what happened last year..."

"I don't care how many times Alvin pinches me, I'm not wearing that hideous color!"

"W-what about this bracelet? You can barely tell it's there..." Jeanette held up a small lime green bangle, flinching when Brittany snatched it out of her hand and threw it on her bed with the rest of the rejected green clothing.

"I'm. Not. Wearing. Green."

The two younger Miller sisters each let out a sigh. With someone as stubborn as Brittany, there was no arguing. She'd just have to learn her lesson the hard way, again.

* * *

Alvin Seville strolled down the hallway. He wasn't wearing his usual red attire, instead he was clad entirely in the color green. Green jersey, green shoes, you name it. He even had a green sticker shaped like a clover on his signature red cap.

Normally this would be rather peculiar, as Alvin was crazy about the color red, and was rarely found in much else, but today was different.

Today was Saint Patrick's Day.

Alvin loved this day of the year. It was a great chance to wreak havoc without repercussion. He loved unleashing his pinching fury on unsuspecting students.

But more than _anything_ he loved to unleash it on Brittany.

Brittany_ never_ wore green, not even on St. Patty's Day. He figured she'd have learned her lesson by now, but she hated the color green even more than she hated the red marks he left on her arms every St. Patrick's Day. He figured that had to be a pretty strong hatred.

* * *

Brittany strolled into the school, somewhat hidden behind her sisters. Normally she'd always take the lead, but not today. Today she packaged up her naturally confident air and tried to stay as hidden as possible. She wouldn't let her ego get in the way of the fact she didn't want to be seen today. _Especially_ not by Alvin.

She could have stayed home, pretended to be sick. She actually did think about it, but Miss Miller would never let her get away with it. If she wasn't suspicious to begin with, she'd end up getting so frazzled and worried she'd take Brittany to the doctor, and then she'd be in a huge mess. Avoiding a few pinches wasn't worth all that trouble.

Instead she tried to lay low. It probably wouldn't work very long, as she and Alvin had quite a few classes together, and she also knew he'd end up looking for her anyway, but it was worth a shot.

* * *

Alvin casually strolled into his third period class, keeping an eye to for a certain pink clad -he knew she'd be clad in pink - Chipette.

Target: Locked. Ready, set, fire.

"Ow!" Brittany instinctively pulled her arm towards her, cradling it. Where had he come from? How did he get over here so quickly? How had she not seen him coming?

But more importantly, _where was he now?_

Brittany glanced around the room, her eyes passing over many students, all of which were wearing _something_ green. She crinkled up her nose. She didn't see Alvin _anywhere_.

"Ow!" Brittany yelped. She quickly looked down toward the direction from which that pinch came, directly into the eyes of Alvin Seville, who was seated below her desk, smirking devilishly.

"Boo!"

"Why you little-"

The bell rang. She looked up for a moment, and when her eyes returned to where he had been, he was gone.

He was now seated in his desk, next to hers, with that devilish smirk plastered onto his face. He kept glancing at her, his smirk broadening.

At that moment, at that very moment, Brittany Miller knew, in the deepest depths of her mind, that this would be the worst St. Patrick's Day she had yet to experience.

If only she had worn a little green.

* * *

**Thank you for reading!**


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